Jailhouse Cock
by TheLilithMachine
Summary: Post-2003 series. Hamegg and Lamp meet in jail, and decide to team up and take care of a common problem...


_Prison is certainly no Ritz,_ Lamp thought to himself, tapping idly at his plate with his plastic spoon. He half-laughed at his thought, hoping to entertain himself, but then realized he was possibly the seven-thousandth person to think or say that in this building.

Disgusted with himself, he turned back to his prison-grade brownie and attempted to finish it off. Too much gritty sugar in the icing; it left a greasy glaze on the roof of his mouth, and he missed the $60 cheesecakes he and his fellow anti-AI comrades used to order. He briefly wondered how those backstabbers were doing outside this joint.

Lamp considered himself lucky to have only been sorted into medium security. Maximum security had lunatics like Umataro Tenma in isolated steel cells, and minimum security was maybe one step above a hippie camp. It made Lamp feel marginally better to be around people who had actually done something interesting to get stuck here. Bank robbers, drug dealers, and video pirates, and the like.

Nobody would come near him, though. Maybe it was fear, possibly. It certainly felt better than being hit with a folding chair like last week.

A loud, surging siren erupted over the P.A. system, followed by the announcement, "Numbers 001-150, proceed to outdoor grounds. Numbers 151-305, proceed to shower and cleaning areas."

_Shit in a handbasket_, he thought, realizing it was time for a shower. Lamp threw down his spoon and headed to where the guards by the west hall were lining up. Dawdling in medium security would only win a man a sharp electric shock. Lamp rolled his eyes at the thought; _this_ was the prison he voted to fund?

Lamp strolled into the crowd, other men clearing the way until he found a comfortable place in the crowd. He happened to notice a much shorter man adjacent to him – a short, greasy, squirrelly man he'd definitely seen before. He slapped one hand on the man's shoulder, exclaiming, "Hey, long time no see, eh?"

Hammond Egg almost leaped in the air at the touch, his eyes almost popping out of his skull when he saw the much larger man beside him. Hamegg held up his hands in defeat, stuttering, "I-I swear, I don't think I owe you money! I-Is this about Louise?"

"No, no, remember me? Lamp?" Silence among the crowd's chatter. "_Acetylene_ Lamp? Promoted the Ex-Parts Robot Exchange?"

Hamegg's eyes seemed to sparkle upon remembering. "O-Oh! Yeah, you're the whole reason I got my business off the ground!"

"Really?"

"Sure thing!" Hamegg shifted in the crowd to be closer to Lamp. "Someone just lists a robot as being outdated, and ya can throw it around just like it's some old spare parts! Saved a helluva lot a' time and money."

"What're you in for?" Lamp asked, as the group turned into a changing room.

Hamegg sighed like his soul was leaving his body. "...Robot trafficking."

Lamp nodded, understanding. "I got in for a long list of garbage. Trafficking, assault, piloting a mecha into a house. Typical shit, y'know."

"You know the routine," some guard yelled over the crowd in the locker room. "Change, proceed into next room, shower, proceed into next room, accept towels and new uniforms."

The other prisoners hissed and nodded in response. Lamp escaped to a corner of the fitting room, pulling off his sweat-dotted prison uniform. He glanced over, surprised to see Hamegg had followed him, most likely using him like a human shield.

"They harass you in here?"

"H-Huh?"

Lamp chucked his old uniform pants and undergarments into a hamper, asking once more, "Do they harass you in here?"

"Not at all...!" Hamegg tried to copy Lamp's throw, but his uniform landed splayed all over the floor before the hamper. "I'm a likable guy. Sometimes they call me a "lil' shit weasel", but I can't complain."

The two headed into the shower area, an enormous room lined with vinyl tiles, but with security audio receivers mounted from the ceiling, and little dispensers of body wash-come-shampoo and lotion along the walls. The entire place could be easily hosed-down in the event of a catastrophic stabbing. Hamegg and Lamp retreated to the corner, awkwardly trying to share one shower head as the room slowly filled up. In the centre of the room was a small open doorway into the little room for wheelchair-bound prisoners to wash in.

As mechanically designated, water shot out of the shower heads in unison. Lamp hissed, dodging the jetstreams of water that almost drenched his glasses. Hamegg was already in the middle of trying to shampoo his hair.

"They give ya hell in here?" Hamegg asked, shampoo foam flooding his bony shoulders; he silently cursed using so much.

"I got hit with a folding chair last week." Lamp looked at the cheap, greasy shampoo in his hand. "By a guard. A dame. I just wanted a cigarette."

"C'mon, don't call a lady a "dame", it-" Hamegg spat angrily. "Shit! Shit, shampoo in the eyes!"

Lamp ignored him. "I haven't had any luck with the women working here, y'know?"

Hamegg nodded, face directly under the water stream. "Well, yeah. This is jail."

Lamp now studied him. "It leaves a guy..._frustrated_, y'know?"

Hamegg looked at him with disgust, whispering with a hiss, "C'mon Lamp, just say you're thirsty! And then join the club."

Someone across the room punched someone else in the face, and screams erupted across the room as two tattooed bodies crashed into the floor, kicking and punching. Maybe five prison guards rushed into the room and started trying to pull them apart. Others were hooting and cheering.

"He broke the skin!" Someone yelled. Hamegg threw his head back and groaned, exhausted, this being maybe the third fight this week. Lamp's eyes were somewhere else.

"Hey," he whispered, nodding at the handicapped add-on room. "Let's go."

"For what?"

Lamp rolled his eyes in disgust, then held up his hands – one hand made a cyllindrical shape, and with the other, crammed a finger into the hole between his curled index finger and thumb. Hamegg cocked an eyebrow at this.

"Aside from just meetin' you today," he said, crossing his arms. "What if we get caught?"

"Who knows? Let's go."

Hamegg knew he'd probably regret it, but he hurried after the bulkier man into the small room. His heart was racing, knowing just how dangerous this was, but it certainly seemed more appealing than awkwardly trying to knock one out in a semi-open cell.

They got around the corner, waiting a moment to check if they were being followed. Lamp held up one finger, eyes to the ceiling; the fight was still being sorted out.

"Okay. We're good." He glanced over at Hamegg, who leaned against the wall, a little dazed and breathing hard. He gave Lamp a glance over, suddenly snickering harder than Lamp had ever seen a man do so; looking down, Lamp realized his dick was at half mast.

Hamegg gave him a toothy grin. "You're already up?"

"Aw, come _on_!" Lamp hissed, standing up straight. "I'm nervous, too. Your heart beats, the blood goes through ya, you know?"

"That's the worst roundabout way of explainin' a boner I've ever heard."

"Look, you wanna go back out there and watch the guards yell at Jack Ass and Fridge Largemeat, or whatever their names are?!" Lamp sneered, his now-erect dick pointing accusingly at Hamegg.

"Fine, fine!" Hamegg shrugged. "Whaddya wanna do?"

Lamp thought about it for a second. "Kinda wanna...y'know, bend ya over. That wouldn't be too weird, would it?"

"It sure wouldn't be the kinkiest thing I've ever done," Hamegg admitted. "You get a few cheap drinks at a dive on Mars, next thing you know, you wake up on the floor with a six-armed robot named Sherry."

Lamp ignored him, pumping his hands full of lotion from a wall dispenser. He reached down and started hurriedly lathering his cock, biting his lip at the hint of relief from each stroke. Hamegg nodded at this, reaching for another lotion dispenser, working on his back end, massaging himself with two fingers. His eyes fluttered a bit, his face determined.

The crowd outside the little room seemed to be finishing up. Lamp drew closer, whispering, "Lemme know when you're ready to go."

Hamegg took an extra moment and a little extra lotion, and then put his hands against the wall, nodding. Lamp drew closer, set his hands on either side of the smaller, ganglier man's hips, and carefully slid his cock into him.

"Nngh-!" Hamegg gasped, spreading his legs a bit further apart. "Fuck, that's big!"

"Damn right. It doesn't hurt, does it?"

"Nah. Now keep doing it, would ya?" Hamegg turned back to the wall, pushing his ass out. Lamp gave him one good thrust in, then started fucking him at a steady but gentle speed. Lamp exhaled with a bit of a sigh, his head tipping back. Damn, it'd been so long since he'd gotten some ass. Hamegg seemed to feel somewhat the same, hurriedly jerking off and biting his lip.

"Y-You do this often...?" Hamegg asked, breathing hard, but not turning back to see Lamp.

"Enough to get good at this-!" Lamp reached around to grope Hamegg's balls. "Shit, you're scrawny. Feel too damn good, though."

"Y-yeah," Hamegg panted. "Just two guys screwin', huh? Some good ol' fashioned ruttin'?"

Lamp let his head fall back. "Sure is...just blowing off jail stress, huh?"

"Y- _damn_!" Hamegg's hips bucked after one good thrust from Lamp. "D-Damn, I'm goin' out early-!"

"Just keep jerkin' there!" Lamp wouldn't admit it, but he was close behind. He privately cursed how sensitive he'd gotten.

Hamegg's little hands rapidly shot up and down his cock, gasping like he'd just run a marathon. Suddenly, he squirmed, bucking, cumming on the shower room wall, a big stupid grin on his face. He leaned into the wall, riding out his orgasm, taking the remaining fucks into him.

Lamp hurriedly pulled out, shooting his load on Hamegg's back, jerking as he came. The cum hit Hamegg's lower back, who gasped at the touch of the hot cum. The two stood there for a moment, gasping, taking the experience in.

"Was..." Lamp said after a moment. "Was it good for ya?"

Hamegg nodded, still grinning, looking at the ceiling dreamily. He said, "...Just a shame I didn't last long. I can go for hours."

"Yeah, sure." Lamp reached over to the shower's handicap access button, hit it, and let the water blast onto himself and Hamegg. The littler man shrieked in shock, but immediately understood; destroy the evidence.

Now dripping in water, they hurried into the towel room, vastly relieved to see all their fellow prisoners still toweling off and changing, making idle small talk with each other. Lamp and Hamegg walked to a towel dispenser like they were at gunpoint – hell, knowing the jail, they probably were – and started drying themselves. They were the only silent men in the room.

Hamegg felt a lighting-fast glance from Lamp, but the man turned back to the leg he was drying before he could incriminate him. Hamegg couldn't hold back the sigh that came to him; had this all been an elaborate disaster? He might as well have just put some fingers up there himself and saved the risk of prison demerits.

The two got their uniforms, and found themselves in a mob being sorted off to several different district groups. The silence between the two was almost smotheringly thick. Suddenly, Hamegg felt a hand gently knock his shoulder, and he quickly glanced over, finding Lamp's hand retreat to his side, still staring forward.

"So, uh..." he muttered. "When's your next activity period?"

"...Tomorrow, 6:30-8:30," Hamegg whispered back.

"Mine's 5:00-7:00. See ya then."

And with that, they parted, heading back to their respective cells, each in a sea of other prisoners and armed guards, but with a secret warmth in their chests.

_Fin_


End file.
